The Doctor's Patient
by mikastark
Summary: Isabella Thomas was stuck in a dead-end job, barley making enough money to pay her rent, when a strange man, dressed like a goofy college professor, walks into her life. I DON'T OWN DOCTOR WHO (as much as I wish I did..)!


_**HEY EVERYONE! Stark here. I know that I haven't updated YANA in a while, but I want to wait until my feels for Matt's regeneration subside a bit. I am working on the next chapter, though, and it WILL be good. I promise. In the mean time, here's a new story I came up with. This story is going to be a lot shorter than YANA. I'm planning only 2-3 chapters for this one and that'll be that. So…ENJOY :D ~Stark**_

I sighed, taking a break from reading The Black Stallion for the umpteenth time, staring out the glass door, another boring day at the library. I honestly had no idea why this place was still open. With the Internet, and Wikipedia alone, no one had any need for libraries, unless they were college students getting away from their dorms. I picked at the fake wood covering my desk. As head librarian, my job was, quite possibly, the most boring job in existence. I literally sat here all day doing nothing, because no one came in anymore.

I felt another cough sneaking it's way up my throat. I sipped some water to try and subdue it, fruitlessly. I coughed into a tissue seconds later, not stopping for a good twenty seconds. Pulling back from the fit, I saw more blood on the tissue. Unfazed, I wiped my mouth and threw the tissue into the trash.

The bell above the door jingled, I didn't expect to hear that until the end of the day. I looked up from the book again, to see a tall, lanky man walk in. The man was dressed in a tweed jacket, a bow tie, button down, pink plaid shirt, and black trousers with matching shoes. His hair was brown and floppy, swooped to one side of his head. Overall, he was dressed like a goofy college professor.

He grinned and ran over to me, "Hello! I was wondering if you might be able to direct me to the Shakespeare section?" he asked. He seemed to be as giddy as a little kid when their mommy takes them to an ice-cream parlor.

"Yeah, sure," I marked my place and stood up, "This way." I noticed he eyed my bookmark as we passed. It wasn't anything special, just a list of places I wanted to visit and things I wanted to do before I died.

"Nice bookmark. Did you make it yourself?"

I nodded, "Laminated it and everything." I stopped in front of all the Shakespeare books, "Here you are. All the copies of Shakespeare's works we have in stock."

He grinned and picked up a book of all of his known sonnets. He thanked me and sat down to read. I walked back to my desk.

The lanky man in the bow tie stayed the whole day, he occasionally came up to ask me random questions. I enjoyed his company; for once I wasn't alone all day. He looked into my eyes a lot. I disregarded it; most people say it's polite to look into someone's eyes when talking to them.

When it was time to close up the library, he looked upset. He was in the middle of reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I almost wanted to keep the library open for longer, but I couldn't. He said he'd return tomorrow, which made me happy. I finally had someone to talk to! Another living being in the library! No more endless silence!

* * *

I stood facing away from the spray of water, letting the showerhead spray my back as I examined my scarred arms. My arms were no longer bruised, but the places the IV's went into were still visible. My hair had, thankfully, grown back somewhat, but not to the length it once was. I had what most would call a pixie cut, now. But, I would still be bald if my insurance had still been able to cover my treatments. Sadly, the small amount I made as a librarian could no longer cover my cost of living and insurance. I had to make a choice, keep eating and a roof over my head or keep up my chemo treatments. Unfortunately, the apartment and food won.

I dug my nails into my palms as I tried to keep myself from crying. I knew I was going to die soon; my leukemia was progressing to near fatal stages when I stopped the treatments six months ago. I'd been coughing up blood more frequently every day. I knew I was just a walking time-bomb, waiting to die.

I sighed as I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a small towel around myself. I left my bathroom door open and walked into my bedroom, where I saw the man from the library sitting on my bed. I screamed, and ran into my bathroom to grab shampoo to spray in his eyes.

"WAIT, wait, I'm not here to hurt you! Honest, I'm as harmless as a bunny!" he pleaded.

I turned, armed with the shampoo bottle, "Why should I believe you? This is a bad neighborhood; anyone can be a criminal. Everyone knows I'm a single woman, a librarian at that, no one here to protect me." I walked closer, examining him, "What are you? A stalker? A rapist? A thief? A murderer?"

He looked puzzled at my question, and didn't even seem to notice my state of undress. He snatched the shampoo from my hands, "This wouldn't harm anyone, especially not me…" he sniffed it then tossed it aside, "Watered down, wouldn't sting anyone's eyes too badly." He walked past me into my bathroom. He ran to my sink and lifted up the soap, "Now, liquid soap, that would be a decent weapon!" he declared as if he made some huge discovery.

I was getting pissed, "Hey! You awkward baby giraffe, you never answered my question! Who the hell are you and why are you here? Did you follow me home?" I yelled, trying to hold my towel up.

He returned his attention to me, "Yes, sorry. I'm just passing through. I caught a distress signal from UNIT and my transport landed me here. No idea why, she never usually lands me in random places without good reason."

I was taken aback, "There's more of you?"

He looked upset at my question, "Not anymore. I travel alone now."

"Oh…sorry. Who's UNIT, and this 'she' you mentioned?" I questioned as he fumbled around my bathroom. I was allowing him to look in cabinets and drawers, seeing as I didn't have anything of value.

"UNIT, the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. They investigate and combat paranormal and extraterrestrial threats to the Earth. 'She' is my transport." He answered bluntly.

"I thought you said you were traveling alone?" I questioned.

"I am." He answered, closing a drawer with my hairbrush in it.

"Then who is-" I was cut off by a phone ringing. "I don't have a phone…" I trailed off.

He turned to me, "That's mine." He ran off to answer it. I followed him and overheard a conversation, "Yes, yes I'm on my way. *pause* Just mad a pit stop. *pause* No she decided it. *pause* The TARDIS that's what caused it! Look, I'll be there soon. Ok!" He slammed the phone down as I walked into the room.

I stopped in my tracks, "What is a 1950's Police Box doing in my kitchen?"

He grinned and patted the side of the box, "This is my transport."

"This," I lifted one hand from holding my towel up, "is the 'she' you were talking about? And how is this any mode of transport? Do you walk in and arrest yourself, waiting for the police to take you places?"

He shook his head, "No, no. It's a time-machine and spaceship all in one. This is the TARDIS. That stands for Time And Relative Dimension(s) In Space. And it's all mine."

I laughed slightly, "That can't be true."

He opened the door, "Want to see?"

I was about to go in when I stopped, "Why are you telling me this?"

He gave me a small smile, "You're lonely, stuck in a job going nowhere, in a horrible city, wishing for more out of life."

My eyes widened, "How can you tell that?"

"Your eyes. They show everything. You want more, you long for it."

I turned from his gaze, "Well one look wouldn't hurt…" He grinned and held the door open for me. I walked in and my jaw dropped. It was another world on the inside. There was a massive…console of some sort in the middle with a tube going from it to the ceiling. The entire room was filled with futuristic looking technology. There was a staircase in the back that probably led to more rooms. I stammered, trying to find words, "It's-"

He smiled, "Go on say it. That's my favorite bit."

"Smaller on the outside…" I finished.

His face dropped, "Well…that's one way to put it…"

"But it's beautiful!" I exclaimed, "Are you from the future?"

He said, "No, I'm a Time Lord. I'm from the planet Gallifrey located in the constellation of Kasterborous."

I turned to him, "You're an alien?"

He smirked, "Yeah."

"Nice one?"

"Pretty much."

"And this ship," I gestured around, "Can travel anywhere, any when, in all of time and space?"

He grinned from ear to ear, running to the console, "Yes, anywhere, any when, the entire universe at your fingertips…that is…as soon as I get UNIT sorted out. There's some sort of alien warship orbiting the planet because one of their soldiers is now UNIT's prisoner." He faced me, "Want to come?"

"Travel around all of time and space with a man I just met?" I almost laughed.

He smirked, "But you didn't just meet me. You met me earlier today."

"I don't even know your name, and you don't know mine."

"I do, I saw your nameplate on your desk, Ms. Isabella Thomas." He walked up to me, looking into my eyes again. "And I know you want very much to say yes to my offer."

I looked at the ground, "Is this what you do? You show up in someone's life, randomly, and whisk them away in your spaceship? How can I know that what you're telling me is true?"

He took a few moments to think of an answer. Then he said, "Trust me."

I looked into his eyes with determination, "Prove it."

"How?"

Smirking, I said, "Give me five minutes to get dressed then take me to this UNIT and let me ask them about you."

He, finally, noticed I'd been in nothing but a towel the entire time. His face flushed redder than an over-ripened tomato and he turned his back to me. "F-fine, I'll be here," he stammered.

As I was about to walk out, I turned back to him, "You didn't answer another one of my questions. What's your name?"

"Me?" he asked, his back still facing me, "I'm The Doctor."

"Doctor Who?" he had to have another name, no one is called 'The Doctor'.

"Just The Doctor."

"Your name is The Doctor?" I asked for clarification.

"That's what I'm called, yes."

"That can't be true. What did your mother name you?"  
"I can't tell you that. Just call me The Doctor, or Doctor if you want to forget the The in my name. Some do that for conversational talk."

"Why can't you tell me your name?"

"I just can't. It's something I'm never supposed to do…It's a Time Lord thing." He tried to dismiss the topic. "Now please go get dressed."

"Alright, see you in a bit then, Doctor," I walked out, closing the door behind me.


End file.
